20150720

blog20150704

Although you are eager for a play day, you're aware that the fun won't last forever. The social Aquarius Moon is hanging out in your 5th House of Fun and Games today, highlighting your need to be with your family and friends. However, you can already feel a heavier wave washing up on the shores of your life. Your chances for success are enhanced more by your attitude than anything else. The best way to prepare for the upcoming crunch is to rejuvenate your body and mind by basking in the good times while they last.

Emotional and social freedom are on many people's minds as the USA celebrates Independence Day. The globally minded Aquarius Moon encourages us to consider political issues rather than our unique individual agendas. Although the airy Aquarius Moon favors abstract concepts over mundane concerns, the security-conscious Cancer Sun continues to pull us back toward more personal issues that involve our homes, families, and closest relationships.

There are many Canadians celebrating the Fourth of July this year. We share more than we might want to admit with the Americans to the south. We might consider them as the fence to protect the northern two thirds of the continent from the Mexicans and their garbage pickers who see us as the Land of Opportunity. There are good and bad in all people and we should not discriminate against the lesser opportuned. It's much like we are not to look down on criminals in jail for their misfortunes.

My book writing is slowly moving along to chapter two. There are many adventures that also demand my time. Am I to become a driver in a float for the summer parade this year? That also needs time to rehearse and so on. I will need to wear a disguise for the occasion. Now, who would believe that? I think I should take up smoking again just to calm my nerves.



blog20150719

Today was a day of rest after the parade of yesterday. It was a good parade except for the ceremonies afterwards. I didn't like the ceremonies for my own reasons, although plenty of awards and accolades were highlighted. After the parade, we went to the historic Fort Wellington.

The cost for two seniors was only about six dollars. We saw the display of a civil war gunship that had been raised from the bottom of Lake Ontario. The yacht-sized gunboat had full sized cannons and the bottom of the boat washed clean of mud resting in a preservation aquarium. We watched a fifteen minute history video of the Fort from it's first beginnings to the present. Then, we went to the real fort to look at the entire layout.

In summary of the day, I took 360 pictures while Peter only took forty pictures. So, while I had only a few pictures of the park ceremonies after the parade, I did take a lot of pictures of the historic fort. I didn't think I took that many pictures, but I also knew I had a sore finger from so much clicking of the camera. That is the way it goes, eh?

20150710

blog20150710

A few days ago, I began changing the sides of the fuselage to add a rectangular exhaust port on each side of the fuselage. It began with marking out a rectangle on the lower side of the fuselage. The other side of the fuselage was similarly marked. An X-acto knife was sued to cut the rectangle out of the side of the fuselage. Then, an indented insert was carefully positioned and then glued into place. The insert was painted flat black, along with a small square beside the indented rectangle. The result was a realistic replica of an exhaust port. The other side of the fuselage was also treated the same way. Both sides of the fuselage now sported identical indented exhaust ports in keeping of what was on the FW-190.

I took a day for each exhaust port to be cut out and filled with an angled insert. The exhaust port was painted a flat black paint and the surrounding camouflage paint was repainted. I took this opportunity to change the camouflage pattern of the FW-190 to be a light green. I have yet to decide what else will be added to the camouflage scheme as there are so many options.

Meanwhile, I have also worked on the little orange snowplow. I have painted the dumpbox a silvery colour and the grill of the cab. I have yet to replace the clear windows and paint other details like the utility lights and tail lights. I have to glue the frame back onto the underside of the dumpbox and cab. I need to file the tires to make them look realistic.

20150630

blog20150629

Another week begins with a rainy day that began yesterday. It has rained on and off since yesterday as the weather has cooled. Perhaps we need a few more solar flares to warm things up a bit. I want to go out into sunshine and have fun while tanning. It doesn't look like there will be much sunshine for the next little while.

This past weekend was beautiful with the ceremony of the wedding for Kim and Lynne. The wedding was a complete success in every way! Everyone in attendance was friendly and happy about the wedding. It had threatened to rain all day Saturday, but it held off. Sunday was when the rain started and it basically hasn't really stopped. I don't know why the weather has turned so miserable, but it is something we have to deal with.

Getting back home is a comforting and warm feeling of familiarity. Poor Twister spent the weekend alone at home. She was ever happy to see us walk in the door. Twister had enough food and water to last the duration of our little holiday excursion to Cornwall. I should have taken a picture or two of Twister greeting us. She came down the hall to the end of the hallway carpet runner. From there she watched us and meowed a hello of sorts. The only thing we had forgotten was to take care of the litter. It was a very skimpy amount in the litter pan. I cleaned it as soon as I was able to devote myself to the task after unpacking. We had to make two trips down to the van in the basement.

I woke up at about 5:00 am to go to the bathroom. Twister went with me so I combed her fur and fed her some treats. She was happy and purring at the attention she got. I was just as happy to give her the attention she got. I guess that is how it works, one getting from one who is giving. In return, Twister give her attention when she wants to and we love her up as much as we do. I think it is worth it.

20150629

blog20150629

Another week begins with a rainy day that began yesterday. It has rained on and off since yesterday as the weather has cooled. Perhaps we need a few more solar flares to warm things up a bit. I want to go out into sunshine and have fun while tanning. It doesn't look like there will be much sunshine for the next little while.

This past weekend was beautiful with the ceremony of the wedding for Kim and Lynne. The wedding was a complete success in every way! Everyone in attendance was friendly and happy about the wedding. It had threatened to rain all day Saturday, but it held off. Sunday was when the rain started and it basically hasn't really stopped. I don't know why the weather has turned so miserable, but it is something we have to deal with.

Getting back home is a comforting and warm feeling of familiarity. Poor Twister spent the weekend alone at home. She was ever happy to see us walk in the door. Twister had enough food and water to last the duration of our little holiday excursion to Cornwall. I should have taken a picture or two of Twister greeting us. She came down the hall to the end of the hallway carpet runner. From there she watched us and meowed a hello of sorts. The only thing we had forgotten was to take care of the litter. It was a very skimpy amount in the litter pan. I cleaned it as soon as I was able to devote myself to the task after unpacking. We had to make two trips down to the van in the basement.

I woke up at about 5:00 am to go to the bathroom. Twister went with me so I combed her fur and fed her some treats. She was happy and purring at the attention she got. I was just as happy to give her the attention she got. I guess that is how it works, one getting from one who is giving. In return, Twister give her attention when she wants to and we love her up as much as we do. I think it is worth it.

20150526

blog20150526

This is a test to see how this works. I do have to see where my fingers are to push the right keys. It is a soft touch and I do like that! I was told about the ?// keys. It seems that \i will take a bit of getting used to the touch, position, and \\\||||||\\\\\ Oh! That is different!

You may not appear any different from the outside today, but something significant has changed and you know it. Although you might feel weary from being bounced around by strong emotional currents, you aren't willing to just drift along with the flow. Go inward and find your center of gravity because you have the power of perseverance on your side now. Establish priorities based on your long-term goals and don't let anyone talk you out of your plans. Be like the little engine that made it up the mountain by repeating, "I think I can, I think I can."

We may pause and take a few deep breaths today to gain perspective as the recent chaos begins to fade. The Virgo Moon is powerful now while she forms a superconductive trine with potent Pluto. Thankfully, our analytical faculties enable us to see exactly what we must do in the days ahead. We still feel the restless Gemini energy, but retrograde Mercury reminds us to reconsider our options rather than impulsively dashing toward the finish line.

I am constructing a balsa wood rubber band powered glider kit by Guillow's Mfg. I began the work on the FW-190 in 20150405. I have done most of the fuselage and wings. The difficult matching of the nose to the fuselage was nothing less than creative engineering on a micro scale. I broke down and cheated by using a product called Wood Filler. It is a sort lazy man's ceramic quality clay. Whatever the product is, it does the job by drying slowly into a very hard surface that is sandable, paintable, and strengthening at the same time. The wing roots at the fuselage need all of the strength that they can get.

It is hard to believe that I have made some distinct changes to the construction of the FW-190. The original plans call for a light balsa wood frame with doped paper draped over it. I used a thin sheet of balsa wood to cover the underside of the wings. Then, I used printer paper strips to shape and cover the leading and trailing edges of the wings. I also increased the thickness of the wings by a quarter inch with a quarter inch wide layer of glued balsa wood. I found the increase of weight to be negligible with the increase of lift with a rounded leading edge.

The work on the fuselage is much more complex than the wings. I used two sheets of balsa wood to shape the stabilizers and tail rudder. Once again, weight was a concern. I even added tiny hinges to allow movement of the flaps and rudder where the wings are solid. Then, I increased more weight by adding balsa wood struts to round out the contours of the fuselage tail. The area around the shape of the cockpit was layered with balsa wood struts both to give shape and to strengthen the fuselage. The original canopy was shaped much like the canopy of the ME-109. Instead, I cut out the shape of the new canopy and lengthened it to a teardrop point. Almost half of the canopy will be formed printer paper painted the dark blue green of the fuselage upper surfaces.

The nose of the fuselage was why I bought the cheater's Wood Filler. I started off by layering four sheets of balsa wood rounded out to the shape of the nose cone. It seemed to go well enough until the actual fitting of the nose onto the fuselage. I used two sheets of balsa wood with the grain facing the same way. The result was that one sheet split off and left a very out of round shape. The Wood Filler saved the day by strengthening the balsa wood and filling in where needed.

I did have experience of working with potter's clay in high school. There wasn't much difference but it took a bit to get used to in making it lay where it was needed. The nose cone now fits far better than I had thought I could make it fit. The weight of the Wood Filler balances the weight at the tail of the fuselage and strengthens the separation of the nose cone with the front end of the fuselage. My intention is to cover the front of the fuselage with printer paper. The tail of the fuselage and the back half of the canopy will also be printer paper. Only the top of the wings and the middle of the fuselage will have thin rice paper covering the balsa wood strut frames. Ah, changed my mind.

The overall weight of the FW-190 will balance out only a marginally heavier than the original plan. I am happy to say that I will be including more details than the first version of a FW-190 that I built a decade ago. Actually, there are differences in the plans between the two FW-190 kits. I have found two ways of avoiding the use of rice paper and dope. Both dope and thinner are very high in solvent. The fumes are dizzying, obnoxious, and very volatile. It is a pleasure to build a balsa wood craft without the use of rice paper and dope. I now profess that balsa wood, printer paper, and glue are cheap, simple, repairable, and very sturdy. I am happy about my discovery that creates a very pleasing result.

20150523

blog20080609

The heat is oppressive, blanketing everything in hot, sweaty, and smelly smothering. I can't bear being cold, whereas the heat is something that although is uncomfortable, it is something that I can survive. I have found that I tolerate heat far better than most people. In fact, I can bear temperatures that are known to be fatal to other people. I had presumed that my tolerance for heat was built up by the various occupations I found myself in. But, even that can't explain the tolerance for heat to the extremes that I have endured on occasion.

It's funny to think that you might encounter extreme circumstances without realizing it. Who would believe that falling asleep on a beach towel or filling a bath too hot for comfort might be fatal to anyone. The trouble is that extreme heat can be endured temporarily without fatal effects. But, the trouble with heat stroke is something that can be fatal if it isn't treated correctly.

blog20091210

I sometimes wonder how it is that there flows a vast river of information through my tiny biological brain. I do know a lot about how my mind works, and more, about the processes of the universe around me. But what really defies description is how to make sense of all of the tangled strings of memories that mark actual experiences and other artifacts of my past. Really, how do I hope to make sense of what is in my mind when it is so difficult to describe in small, conventional words and terms.

There are so many forms of conceptual and idealistic translations from dataflows and memory strings into conventionally understandable modes of expression. Getting the gist isn't the only trouble with what exists within the bounds of my mind. In fact, there are so many different kinds of information flows that it takes my fully active personality awareness to range over everything in a way that makes sense of everything. I do have secrets that can only remain secrets because of the nature that the sensitive information is stored. And, I have libraries of information that it is impossible to make sense of anything unless a specific format is used as a filter to process limited bits of that information. It is much the same as reading a dictionary as compared to reading a literary work as a book of some sort.

blog20100909

Today was a long day as far as accomplishments go. I did a lot of work on the wings of the Fokker DVII biwing fighter. It is beginning to look like it might be finished sometime this year. Who knows how long it will actually take me to finish the job completely. Apart from building the thing from scratch in balsa wood and other materials, I will have to add several layers of real dope to the paper coverings that will go on the whole outer surface of the plane. With all of the combined weight, I don't know how much it will eventually scale out to be with everything. Let's only hope it will still be able to fly.

The wings are a tedious job of playing with very fine balsa wood pieces that break so easily. I have several glue repairs on every piece it seems. Anyways, the glueing of the pieces into position has to include the whole piece and not the little bits that result from my finger grip. I can easily shred any bit of balsa wood between my finger tips as if it were the mere crumpling of paper. Well, in a way, it is a sort of paper with being so fragile and thin. And then, as if to make sure, the entire construction is covered by a layer of rice paper and dope to stiffen it into a more durable sort of material. It all goes back to the days of Chinese kite flying. That is something that has been around for thousands of years.

I am happy to be working away on the wings of the Fokker DVII. It is a very critical aspect of the construction process as it determines the overall flight characteristics. It might look terrific but won't get off the ground without a good swinging push with a golf club, eh? Right, I have made those things before. I can say that because I know that usually my own standards of construction are far better than what most people might be able to manage on their best days. I do admit that I am far from perfect in a lot of things and it takes me a while to get it right. At least I do keep trying until it does look reasonably good from all aspects. Most of the construction is merely by eye alignment and pressing to fit. The neat thing about balsa wood is the fact that it is so soft and easy to fit into odd shapes. Hardwoods are a far different matter.

Balsa wood is great for most of the construction of the Fokker DVII. There are several specific places where balsa wood is too soft for the strength demanded of it. That is where it is best to switch to a different material or wood such as bass wood. I do use a few other types of wood depending upon availability and special considerations. Bamboo wood is great for supple strength where bass, oak, and pine woods are easily available and much more rigid in strength. It all depends upon what the particular use is for which type of wood. It would be impracticable to make a light plane out of oak or bass wood since both are very heavy and more suited to use in display models instead of actual flying planes.

blog20140315

Here I am, sitting on the bed to use the tablet while talking to Mom. I don't like using a tablet keyboard when compared to a QWERTY keyboard.

blog20110717

Today is the day after I successfully completed the making of a control rod for the rudder. 0f the three control rods to be made, it is the shortest and the first after which all the rest will follow. I am pleased with the method I used to create the control rod that took a total of three days to complete. And, I had to purchase more tools and supplies to complete the job.

The first purchase I had to make was of a .040 gauge wire. Luckily for me the wire came in single three foot lengths and cost only sixty eight cents. I took the newly purchased wire home to begin work on the first control rod. The first thing I did was to file a flat spot on the graphlite rod I had measured and cut to length. Then I had a flat spot to center the drill and begin to drill the hole through the graphlite rod. A two inch piece of wire was cut and bent with the first of four bends. The wire fit neatly into the hole in the graphlite rod and the second of the four bends was made. Mousing with glue completed the affixing of the bent wire to the graphlite rod.

It was only after completing the fashioning of the control rod that I found the wire was twice the diameter of the holes available on the servo. I had to cut off the affixed wire on the graphlite rod. A bit of cleaning up was needed to prepare the graphlite rod for the second hole to be drilled for the first piece of smaller wire. The way was prepared for some shopping to be done.

The trip to the hobby store was business like and brief. I knew where the selections of supplies were and went directly to the section with wire and material supplies. I selected a piece of .020 gauge wire for sixty eight cents. A loonie produced some extra change for me to feed into my purse. My purse is usually heavy enough for me to pronounce that it carries two extra bricks instead of the regular one brick.

A second stop was made at Lee Valley. Not one but two jeweler’s vices were purchased. Now I have a total of three jeweler’s vices I had found that my hand drill did not handle the wire sizes of drills. However, the jeweler’s vice could fit the wire sized drills quite nicely. And, the jeweler’s vice was also able to handle the gauge of the graphlite rod and so give support for filing and drilling that needed to be done.

A third stop at another store was to purchase a tiny four inch desk vice that could easily clamp temporarily onto my desktop. A tiny vice would make bending of any material or just holding it into place to be worked on in a quick and easy manner. I have often thought of acquiring a desktop vice, but had put it off until now. I hate to think of my growing list of tiny tools intended just for my delightful hobby of scale modelling.

The acquisition of a desktop vice was more than I had expected. The four inch vice is actually an all-purpose piece of equipment that does clamp onto any desktop quite easily. The vice also has a small oval shaped flat surface anvil for working and finishing materials. It is a well designed and sturdy vice for most purposes I might have in mind. The desktop vice came along with the purchase of a small flat file. It was a bit of a splurge on my part, but I thought it was a good opportunity to make the best of the visit to that speciality store.

blog20150124

Defending your position might be necessary this weekend, especially if you feel your emotional security is tied up with the need to protect yourself. You don't have to go too far out of your way and waste energy trying to be nice if anyone acts disrespectfully toward you. Although you may startle others if you push back to make your point, no one has the right to be overly bossy or take advantage of your good nature. Standing up for yourself will earn you new respect and appreciation from someone you admire. We're champing at the bit today, eager to start something new, as the Moon rushes into pioneering Aries at 8:31 am EST. We grow bored of the status quo and are itching to take a risk to seize the day and step into uncharted territory. However, we may miss crucial details because we assume that everything will turn out great. Taking decisive action is wise as long as we pay attention to all the facts and follow up our intentions with hard work. There are times when the snow flies and so do my thoughts. It isn't always necessary to have a mind that runs as logically as a computer. In fact, there are advantages to having a few bouts of random thoughts, if only to inspire creations that take something, anything, and turn it into a work of art. Art is a collection of beautiful and inspirational works of either words or creations. There are all kinds of ideas and works that fill in the blanks of thought. Not everyone can be inspired or pushed into whatever complexities that are the product of effort and time spent in a creative way. It is funny to think that some works of words written more than a decade or two ago can be read again to refill a mind with long ago thoughts. I have had experiences that were written out in long hand to keep those moments fresh. It doesn't always come out as fresh as I would want, but the main facts are preserved in an acceptable way. It only takes a bit of time to refresh and rewrite the stories to get the circumstances, continuity, and content fashioned. Some people can write a book in four or five days while others have to take considerably longer. Then again, there are books of short stories that eventually conspire to tell something. Only the writer can determine how and when a story is completed. On a dark and storming night, the snow fell in a blizzard of blinding swirls. A trail led through drifts of deep snow until the snow blew enough to fill in the deep trail. Rolling hills spread out in great flats irregularly crossed by ridges and rivers. .

blog20150523

Sleeping all day until 4:00 in the afternoon when the anchor is weighed, the ship in the dock is resting on the bottom as the dock sinks slowly in the sunset. Yes, we know that life is an onward march regardless of the circumstances. I have worked enough to match the nose onto the fuselage of the FW-190. It hangs by a twist tie around a half dozen sheets of balsa wood that run along the southern edge of Desktop Manufacturing area. The foreward joints of the wingroots to the fuselage do not match up. It is a question of adding more Wood Filler to fill in the gaps or just paper over it to save weight. The balance of the entire construction now has a center of gravity at the back strut line on the top of the wings. I think it should be a little more ahead of it's present position. There are many things to do and not enough left n the day to do it all. We do what we do, regardless of what others might think or do. Typing with a spellchecker is such an amazing thing. It catches all of the typos even if you do have to add numerous words to the dictionary. There are several dictionaries based where ever you might be in your computer or on the Internet.. Spelling is such an important part of keeping abreast of the latest languages.

20150515

blog20150515

In the Book of the Dead, the Egyptian guide to the afterlife, there was written the 42 Principles of Maat, also known as the “Negative Confessions.” The 42 Principles are: I have not committed sin. I have not committed robbery with violence. I have not stolen. I have not slain men or women. I have not stolen food. I have not swindled offerings. I have not stolen from God/Goddess. I have not told lies. I have not carried away food. I have not cursed. I have not closed my ears to truth. I have not committed adultery. I have not made anyone cry. I have not felt sorrow without reason. I have not assaulted anyone. I am not deceitful. I have not stolen anyone’s land. I have not been an eavesdropper. I have not falsely accused anyone. I have not been angry without reason. I have not seduced anyone’s wife. I have not polluted myself. I have not terrorized anyone. I have not disobeyed the Law. I have not been exclusively angry. I have not cursed God/Goddess. I have not behaved with violence. I have not caused disruption of peace. I have not acted hastily or without thought. I have not overstepped my boundaries of concern. I have not exaggerated my words when speaking. I have not worked evil. I have not used evil thoughts, words or deeds. I have not polluted the water. I have not spoken angrily or arrogantly. I have not cursed anyone in thought, word or deeds. I have not placed myself on a pedestal. I have not stolen what belongs to God/Goddess. I have not stolen from or disrespected the deceased. I have not taken food from a child. I have not acted with insolence. I have not destroyed property belonging to God/Goddess So what’s the big deal with that? Well, when looking at these with an eye towards comparative religion, it is impossible not to see the connection to Moses’ Ten Commandments. Moses was, assuming he existed, an Egyptian. He supposedly grew up believing he was not Hebrew and was taught about, and believed in, the Egyptian Gods and Goddesses. It can be concluded, then, that Moses must have known about Maat and the 42 Principles.

20150408

blog20150408

I have done some work on the fuselage. Then, I saw that the canopy was of a novel type that required some minor surgery of the cockpit area. I started cutting only to get a mess. So, I went on to building the tail section in separate pieces. I used the pieces as templates to cut double layers for a solid balsa wood tail. I know you can preach about following the guide, but I want hinges that stay hinged. I am not worried about balance because there is no balance needed at the end of a piece of black thread. I know it will hang from the ceiling and that is that. So, onwards with the details such as cockpit dash and seat under a sliding canopy, eh?

20150119

blog20150119

You may feel as if you've stepped into a world of paradox today. The veil between this world and others is thinner than usual, but you're also quite attached to your creature comforts while pleasure-seeking Venus opposes excessive Jupiter. Don't resist the flow of images that arise from your imagination, even if you can't understand what they mean. Thankfully, there's nothing special you have to do now, except listen closely to the messages from beyond while continuing to meet your mundane commitments. We gain traction this morning when the ambitious Capricorn Moon connects with relentless Pluto. However, it's hard to take ourselves too seriously because an over-indulgent Venus-Jupiter opposition brings optimism. Additionally, a diffusive Mars-Neptune conjunction distracts us from our responsibilities. Although we could lose ourselves in boundless fantasies, we can also use our imaginations to find creative answers to unanswered questions. There are times when rest is not an option, rather, a necessity to recover from physical exhaustion. Yes, today was another day highlighted with a session of physiotherapy concerning how to walk again. My knees are not what they should be in order for me to walk normally. There is far more wrong with me than just my knees. Right. Having a weakened immune system from a genetic disease is not a good thing. It means making the best of things while sickness doesn't make it's presence known. We all carry all kinds of cells from our surroundings, but rarely does anything seem to proliferate. We even carry cancer cells that live and die without having any effect upon the surrounding tissues. We do have amazing bodies when you think about it, what we can do and what we can survive. Sometimes we are associated with being parasites because we are so difficult to manage or eliminate. It does seem that our intelligence does make a difference in so many ways concerning our classifications.

20150117

blog20150117

You know the trouble a 20 pound cat can cause. But, you just can't imagine the trouble that Twister can cause by simply walking across my keyboard. The data input was enough to cause the complete wipe of my browser information and history of urls and their passwords. Do you think I am smart enough to write everything down? NOT! I am in the terribly painful labour of typing out what I can remember, along with the inevitable attempts of possible key combinations. I have to use my left hand to stave off the dear chat from using my keyboard for more fun. oh what fun it is... The selection of options you have selected are not available Teach me to sit nude while A purr is stalking my keyboard space. I guess I had better dress up just to sit in front of my keyboard for any length of time. Speaking of dress, a dear angel of Christmas presented us with soft terry cloth bathrobes of both pink and blue! The soft fuzzy material is so nice to touch with skin of both private and public parts. It is just not enough protection of thickness enough to keep the pooints of claw paws from also touching soft skins. Oh! The Firefly spirals down to touch a soft landing with a bump on a vacant piece of flat land. A few minutes later, a search party disembarks from the steaming hot cargo bay of the Firefly to spread out from the landing zone. A steady buzz of radio communications keep everyone connected in an informing chatter. The url you have selected has lost contact with your WII wireless connection. Please check the... Drat cat! I know that there as many times when you want to scream out in the middle of a mall just because you lost your oops cool. It is as bad as walking around with your bra showing it's little strap. Do I care? Yes! And it is as bad as slipping a garter when you need to be doing something else. Else! Where did I put that... what I can't find. Oh, over there. You think that I am suffering a senior moment when there is nothing senior about it. I am a senior, after all.

20141123

blog20141123

Last night featured an outing with friends. We met at the Pearl of India for the chef's special. It was a blast as far as a friendship meeting of eight goes. I am certain that everyone was pleased to meet each other and enjoy the specials served by the chef and his staff. I know we will enjoy many returns to the establishment. Today was a relative loss. We slept all day even though I had a bath at about noon. The crawling back into bed made me worry about the dampness I brought with me. My pillow took a wetting from my dripping hair that the large towel didn't get. I know I had dreams, but I forget them quite quickly. Besides, they were not the sort of imagery that I would relish remembering anyways. Meanwhile there is such a passage of time. Speaking of dreams, I scanned through a high glossy commercial railroad modeller's magazine. The wonderful collection of close up pictures added beautifully to the reviews and tips about scale model building and collecting. I have already had two sessions of reading the magazine that was bought only yesterday. It is actually a great resource of adds and links to surprising connections. I have a small collection of HO scale buildings and sheds that I have constructed and detailed over the years. It is a great pasttime if you want to detail a panorama around a HO scale train layout. So many ideas float in my imagination while I struggle to get motivated enough to do anything. The trouble with procrastination is that it really isn't a way to do anything.

20140812

blog20140812

I can’t believe my desk looks like a spilled over garbage barrel. What a load of crap that I have to dig through just to find a measly little tube of glue. I hate this mess and can’t seem to do anything about it. It is like the carpets that need vacuuming and the stacks of dishes that need washing. I don’t even eat properly because of my concern about the mess I live in. I spent two hours working on two little HO scale trucks that will go into the panorama of the HO scale train set. I have quarter inch pieces of foil scattered on my desk around my keyboard. I couldn’t cut the foil properly with scissors nor Xacto knife. The failed attempts are the tiny and shiny little oblongs on my desktop. Some even made it to the carpet under me on my electric wheelchair. Ha! I have only three Stuka bombers ready to hang from the ceiling in one of the bedrooms. I don’t know which bedroom as of yet, however it will be in a formation. Stukas always flew in a formation of three or more. Never did they fly out on missions alone. There simply wasn’t enough flight maneuverability nor machine guns to protect the old fashioned single engine fighter bombers. It is the real reason I made three of the Stukas instead of just one. Right! It has been months since I last worked with paper and dope. I know it smells a lot so I will wait until I can open the door or something. It is frustrating to sit and wait in this messy dump of a desktop. So many things have been added to my list of things to do. Meanwhile, a ME 109b sits with a wing broken off by accident and my right elbow. It was just one of those days when I should have cried instead of tried.

20140419

blog20140419

It's just another day when the clouds cover the blue sky as I go through another day. I have so much to do and nothing left of my energy to do it with. Can you imagine just how hard it is to try to do nothing with nothing? It's like watching a movie without the disc in the player. It is also like trying to watch something without the Internet. Where to begin is the hardest question. I have a wire brush to use for cleaning my hair brush. The wire brush is small enough to get down to the base of the bristles and loosen up the hair and dandruff packed mess that coated the hair brush. I suspect that there is a lot of soap grease binding the hair into tight knots that stick onto the hair brush bristles. It is an amazing sight and smell that comes off the hair brush as it is being cleaned. It only takes a few minutes to do the job of cleaning. There are other things that need cleaning around here. One thing is the carpet of the living room. It has a mess of potatoe chips and crumbs on and around the sofa where we watched a movie. There is even an empty pop bottle of the two liter size sitting on the window sill. I suppose that one day we will clean up things. It isn't like the stacks of dishes that are piled up in the kitchen. It is Saturday, the day before Easter. We have no chocolate eggs nor Easter bunny to cook for tomorrow's supper. i KNOW we plan to go to a friend's place for a BBQ meal and celebration of Easter. It will brighten up the day for our friend, for sure, eh? I have no idea of what I will wear. I have a sort of uniform that I wear because of the thickness of material and ease of comfortable fashion. I have thick tights under sweat pants and a cotton shirt under a sweater. I don't go for style when I want so much to be warm.

20120501

30 April 2012

Saturday past was an exciting adventure out to a Perth Maple Fest. We were up and gone by the crack of dawn and doing high speed antics out on the big road. It was nothing serious, but we did see a few flawed driving practices that come along by bad habit, speed control, and outright ignorance of circumstances. Now, who would have thought that a car sat right beside you for a ten mile stretch before you tried to occupy that same occupied space. It is how two solid masses come into contact at a great rate and extended insurance cost. Damned society of stupidity anyways. Saturday was a very busy pancake breakfast with sausages in a flood of maple syrup. Afterall, it is a maple fest. And fest there was. My what a fest that lasted from about 6:30 am until about 11:00 am. There was a steady flow of pancakes and people going through the Legion hall as quickly as the parking spaces emptied out. The bloated stomachs and their people wandered up and down the length of Main street. It was packed as tightly as shoppers could stand, going from one little vendor to another in search of the best deals, the right prices and the right articles. I am not so sure that the cash flow was as freely available as the cashiers would have liked, owing to the depressed markets and steep delivery costs. That little burg is way the heck and gone down the big road from the center of civilization and supply. Right. Sunday was a day of rest. We slept through it until late into the evening. By then, it was too late to do anything anyways. So, back to bed and the poor cats were left to play by themselves with a dark TV and no noise coming from the upstairs party goers. Monday was much the same thing with a huge overdose of coffee in an attempt to kickstart off the day. )O so it didn’t work, eh. And another day bit the dust. The one thing about Monday was the dream that forced it’s way into my conscious awareness. I did not intend to have any sort of dream, but it was a play on either past experiences or of future possibilities. There is a long list of past that tries to force the future into playing along, but it hardly ever affects the outcome of destiny over fate. The Gods of Chance are having at it again in an attempt to recreate an actual randomly precipitated incident in all of those obtuse patterns on which everything so depends. Now, who would believe that the Gods of Chance would even think such a thing. The dream started off with the full blast of capabilities turned on in one hundred percent efficiency as an object materialized out of the darkness over a sea of rock salt growths as tall as trees. It was an old land with an old history buried in deep sleep below those edifices of brittle and sharp crystals. Pools of rich mineral water had created those columns of growth that hid the remnants of intelligence. It had all come from somewhere for a reason. The team of archaeologists and tactical support had found the mother lode of old junk that had been buried in ages past. The once bountiful planet of gases and liquids on it’s surface had long since evaporated away into space leaving behind a sterile cinder. Dust kicked up at every step of my airtight armoured and automated, dual tracked survival pod. My aerial whipped past an old crystal formation to jerk the survival pod on it’s tracks. At the same moment, an object appeared hovering over a distant ridge of the crystal formations. I scanned frequencies to find a resonant reflect in passive mode. Light does have it’s telltale limitations according to whatever materials that can be identified. Simultaneous trace energy radiated off the object as it tried to scan the area in it’s vicinity. It couldn’t detect me although I knew it was there, searching and very actively communicating with a much larger companion object. Both objects were advanced armed and armoured scouts for a considerable force of exploratory and invasive military group. Both objects were battle damaged and wary of anything that moved as being hostile until proven otherwise. Bad, bad day was in the reckoning for any hostile. Internal system checks were not completed while outward communications were active. Internal system counters were adjusted and system failures were identified. A few subroutines were rerouted through alternative networks. A final check was made of subsystem routines before another calibration of the internal system counters was made. The internal work on the objects were stabilized and completed before an initial query was made. The nearby little object seemed to understand that it had been serviced and the repairs were helpful in it’s overall efficiency. The larger object was becoming aware that something had happened to the smaller companion object. The smaller object was somehow improved with increased efficiency. Perhaps there was a proximity to native crystal resources that had made a difference in communications. Nothing appeared to be moving or present in a possibly hostile situation. Curious. The two objects were suddenly aware that a team of scientific explorers had been found. Possibly there were more of the team at large in the area of the vast crystal growths. At that moment, reactive tension increased to the realization that possibly one more member of the scientific group had been encountered. It took long moments before I was identified as being an unarmed noncombatant that had effected passive repairs to both of the objects. Longer moments passed while I was located and identified physically by my location in the crystal growth formations. I wasn’t moving or even trying to hide my position in the cover provided by the formidable growths of crystal minerals. Ah! Pain! My body surged up on a wave of pain as I tried to move my limbs. Pain! Pain seared my mind as I tried to get control of one limb at a time. Muscles were rigid and stretched over my bones in drumhead tautness. I had to stretch the already tightly stretched muscles in the effort to free them from their rigidly frozen positions. Slowly I began freeing myself from the flatness of the mattress and the bulk of the sheets and comforters piled thickly over me. The dream and it’s complexities were lost on the waves of the pain that was reality and my actual awakening. I struggled to try to remember where I was in the dream, what was going on, and what I was doing before the pain erased the fragile traces of the dream. The dream receded before the onslaught of neurological activity caused by the presence of activated pain receptors. Pain! Monday wasn’t a blue day. Monday was a do day. I had things to do and it was important that I get my buns moving up and off the fart sack that was the bed. I had things to do that were in concerted concern with the paperwork that had to be done. There is always paperwork and the paper trail of proofs that must exist. Besides, there were other things that I wanted to do, too. Monday.

20120418

19 April 2012

You wouldn't think that staying up all night is that easy to do. But, it happened to me again when I didn't make it into the damned bed once again. I do want to stretch out in the soft warm comfort of the bed that is a field of dreams by night and a flat soft area for two big felines to stretch out. Cats do know where their most comfortable places are. There is something beautiful about two big old cats who are not afraid of anything within their little worlds. Ok, so there is the flash of lightening and the mighty roar of thunder that does make them scramble for cover and safety. Twister comes racing up to me and slides to stop with plaintive mews of clearly afraid crying for help. She knows that I am her guardian and protector against anything that might possibly hurt her. I soothe her and calm her nerves with my own purring and other assurances. I do have more of a connection with primitive animals than I care to admit. I know what it is to run wild through a wilderness with wolves ahead and behind on the same path. I know I used to be able to run with the wind when I was younger. Now, I have trouble to even stand up without depleting my oxygen level. I still remember so many times with my horse named Tarbaby. Seven gaits for dressage competition made her look so damned magnificently beautiful and impressively smart. She was fourteen point two hands tall and as smart as a six year old kid for all her intelligence. Still, she was a horse and she knew it. For all of that, I was her companion and caretaker, teacher and trouble maker. We played together at all kinds of games with so many tricks. Gads, I remember so much of my past still. Time wanders on as I go from one thing on to another thing in a flurry of activity and as often in a fearful fleeing from nightmares that do walk in the day time. There is something that puts the fear into me like nothing else. I only know that it does try to stalk me through time, trying to follow where I go while staying lost and hidden in the past. Every once in a while I catch a glimpse of it trying to catch up to me on a highway somewhere. I have seen a shadow flit from one moment into the next as it hides from view. It is still years, decades away in the past as it slowly pursues me. I know I am hunted. War is a fatal ending of so many and so much. War is a total loss for everyone who lives, participants or not. Soldiers live and die as they do in actions of combat on land, and in the air or the sea. How desperately life clings on in a fatally wounded way whether hunted or hunter. No distinction exists between living and dying for one side or another in the fields of conflict. Death is simply that, the ending of living. Who could possibly die and fall down in defeat, only to rise up and carry on like Lazarus Long. Miracles do occur that astound even the Dharma King. I spent more than a week during the year 2004 under the healing care of the Dharma king in Mississauga. Millions of devotees line up for a glimpse of the Dharma king while I was in his presence for more than a week. How rare is that? More, how rare was the miraculous healing that he brought about for me. I know that I should have died so many times and that I carried terrible wounds to cause me such suffering. Only the Dharma king could have known anything about my wounds and how to heal them. I know that there are many things I am not supposed to remember. I know that some of those past events and circumstances were not concluded as they should have been. Instead, there are a few things that can and will carry on in my future. How and when those events will come to pass are not for me to know, rather they are possible futures that may or may not happen. Meanwhile I still dodge the shadow that haunts me from the past where it hides as a lurking wraith. I do try to forget, keeping my mind busy with simple tasks. I am always alert until I fall asleep in exhaustion. I sleep in short naps, barely letting my body recover enough to carry on. A full sleep is something I dare not allow for fear of letting my past catch up to me. How else could I explain that I am intent on keeping ahead of myself. It does and has made a difference somehow. Somehow I have avoided a dire fate, possibly that wraith that still hunts in widening circles behind my travels. When miles become years that have passed like pickets of a fence, I stride to stay ahead of where I should be, ahead of whatever lurkes behind me. I do keep myself busy even as I race to stay free. I do read, write, and busy my hands at many crafts. I draw, sketch, paint, and create constructions. My most recent project of construction has already taken two years in it's making. A balsa wood sesquiplane is so light, merely two or so ounces in weight, and yet sturdy to stand up against my rough handling of it. What's more is the fact that the feather light park flyer is actually airworthy and stable enough for remote controls. I know there is a lot more to do with the sesquiplane before it is finished, but it is getting there, slowly.

20111119

19 November 2011

A typical November month is one of cold, snow storms, and winds that blow that coldness right through you. It is a wintry month that blusters the seasonal weather mercilessly against anyone or anything standing in the way. I remember many winters beginning with a set of storms that blanket snows over barren lands and leafless trees alike. This November month is an exception to the usual onset of winter. It has been brighter and warmer than usual, with a noticeable absence of cold and snow. Leaves on the trees had brightened into their autumn colours as usual and dropped slowly to the ground. Frost appeared during some nights, but the weather has been far warmer than usual. Even so, I have been lightly dressed and unprepared for real winter weather. I distinctly remember growing up and expecting to wear a snowsuit under all of the Halloween costumes I wore. And the years since then were all similar with the fall of snow coming on Halloween. So, it is an evident fact that the lack of snow has resulted from the warmer weather patterns of El Nina that have swept farther north. Who knows what sort of winter we will expect with the change of the usual weather patterns.

20111010

8 October 2011

I doubt that I would have anything important to say. I certainly am not pretty or young. And, I can't even dream of being a prolific artist of anything. One of the few things I seem to be consistently good at is to fall asleep in front of Super Stupid, and then burning the poor keyboard or myself with a lit cigarette. Smoking is such a habit I have trouble quitting. I can say with conviction that I am addicted to the three C's, namely cigarettes, coffee, and computers, not necessarily in that order. Oh well. Gifted means that long days of practice have been sweated out, insight enhanced with health and prosperity, and a sort of success at one thing or another. None of the above have crossed my path except for the sweat part. I do sweat in my daily hot baths to loosen up my muscles enough to straighten my bent spine by lessening the pain enough with the soothing heat. Having a disease certainly changes your life into something else that dehumanizes you in so many ways. Some of the medications I am on do have a way of opening up my thoughts in amazingly new ways. I was always so conventional, so black and white, and definitely paranoid with fear of some things. I couldn't be left alone, afraid of the closed in spaces, and especially the dark. It wasn't anything that people did to scare me, but the moments of facing the unknown, Laser lights do terrify me. So does the fear of falling. There is so much more to fear in my convoluted mind. For decades, I would wake up in the middle of the night screaming my lungs out and sweating buckets of wet sweat. My body smelled scummy in those times, without any known cause or cure. Just as suddenly as those bouts would start, they would run for weeks, and then stop. It drove my doctors and psychiatrists crazy to try to explain what happened to me or why I was reacting as I did. Whatever it was, it was as real as I could possibly verbalize. The only question was what was it. From my mid teens until my working career ended in 1999, I was super healthy and strong. I would walk into places where nobody dared to go themselves. Nothing people could do would scare me. But, where my fears began was far beyond normal. Most people would simply avoid me for all of the troubles I seemed to have following me. I was a fierce enough competitor that whatever scared me certainly put fear into the bravest of souls. I didn't go out in search of relationships. They certainly found me when I least expected. The four individuals I managed to settled down with were stable and strong in their own ways. Perhaps a decade would be enough for them to end the relationships for their own reasons. Then would come the time for me to mope and mourn in abject loneliness. I always hated being alone for any reason. I was more capable and gifted than anyone could imagine even when isolated. I could keep myself busy to pass the time away. And, I could find my way in and around most factories. I was a skilled assembler and machine operator for more than two decades before I began a career in professional driving. I never imagined myself in doing anything involving the complexities that went along with my jobs. There was a dumb and numb streak in me that came out as sheer stubbornness. If I was able to do something, I would be able to do that thing all day long. However, it became evident that I had trouble with physically repetitious movements. Assembly lines and dealing with numbers of people became increasingly difficult for me to manage successfully. It wasn't until I became an independent trucker that I was able to put my skillsets into a brilliantly shining career. I networked enough to learn what I had to expect in finding and delivering loads for a living. I travelled extensively throughout the continent in delivering freight and goods or haulage for hire. I discovered a freedom I hadn't known before, along with ominous responsibilities. Now I am just a broken down old fool with nothing of a future ahead of me. I still keep my fingers moving and my hands busy at different pasttimes. Afterall, my hands are literally factories that just haven't quit yet. I still tell stories and spin my wheels because there is always a need somewhere. Believe that I have earned my attitude and strange way of lilting my speech with too simple of a vocabulary. Uhuh.

20111005

4 October 2011

I doubt that I would have anything important to say. I certainly am not pretty or young. And, I can't even dream of being a prolific artist of anything. One of the few things I seem to be consistently good at is to fall asleep in front of Super Stupid, and then burning the poor keyboard or myself with a lit cigarette. Smoking is such a habit I have trouble quitting. I can say with conviction that I am addicted to the three C's, namely cigarettes, coffee, and computers, not necessarily in that order. Oh well. Gifted means that long days of practice have been sweated out, insight enhanced with health and prosperity, and a sort of success at one thing or another. None of the above have crossed my path except for the sweat part. I do sweat in my daily hot baths to loosen up my muscles enough to straighten my bent spine by lessening the pain enough with the soothing heat. Having a disease certainly changes your life into something else that dehumanizes you in so many ways. Some of the medications I am on do have a way of opening up my thoughts in amazingly new ways. I was always so conventional, so black and white, and definitely paranoid with fear of some things. I couldn't be left alone, afraid of the closed in spaces, and especially the dark. It wasn't anything that people did to scare me, but the moments of facing the unknown, Laser lights do terrify me. So does the fear of falling. There is so much more to fear in my convoluted mind. For decades, I would wake up in the middle of the night screaming my lungs out and sweating buckets of wet sweat. My body smelled scummy in those times, without any known cause or cure. Just as suddenly as those bouts would start, they would run for weeks, and then stop. It drove my doctors and psychiatrists crazy to try to explain what happened to me or why I was reacting as I did. Whatever it was, it was as real as I could possibly verbalize. The only question was what was it. From my mid teens until my mid thirties, I was a drunken doper hiding myself from reality as much as I could. A full decade after my first divorce was when I began trying to make sense of my fears. I started sketching and writing something of my fears and my history. I wasn't crazy or suicidal because of my fears simply because I did fear very plausible and real things. Whatever I did, couldn't scratch the surface of my dark and fearful nightmares. I knew that whatever it was, didn't matter to anyone else but me. I was in my late fifties when I finally began to settle down. My body became wasted away with a disease. I went from terrific health and strength to a mere 96 lb bag of bones that laid on a bed for four years. I couldn't go up or down a set of stairs to my rented room. I was in that room for over four years before I met someone who was willing to believe in me enough to have a relationship. My life was saved that completely. My sketching and writing returned to me with visions of a wonderfully beautiful world. My sickness abated and I gained weight. My body slowly recovered and my gifts of creativity were practiced dilligently. I made friends and kept myself out of trouble. I was able to shine as a friend and a cherished love to the one who saved me. I learned how to become happy, even with my limitations and weaknesses. I haven't got any world saving quips to say nor any advices to anyone. Each person has to live their own lives and make their own choices to fulfill their destiny and place in the world. No one can take responsibility for anyone else nor live out their lives for them. We are all individuals and unique in what we give to the world around us.

20110905

5 September 2011

5 September 2011 Oh, it looks like I only have an hour to spare this time. I don’t know exactly how long I do have, only that it is shorter than usual. We have to go somewhere on this Labour Day weekend. It is almost funny that a holiday doesn’t necessarily mean that you can take as long as you want in doing something. Hourray for the long weekend holiday that takes up three days instead of the regular two days. I have thought about time travel, and I even think that I have done something to that effect according to my indistinct memories. Let’s face it, a fifty year lapse has occurred since those events happened. And, there is just so much that has been forgotten along the way. All I care about is that the paradoxes were handled and that I am still alive for it. I have done all kinds of things in my life and it doesn’t seem to stop. I have a number of alterations done with my genetics as a result of one thing or another. I don’t know how many times I was collapsed on the ground or hung up in a tree. All I do know is that I have managed to get up and keep going. Ain’t that the way, eh? I do remember getting sick and spending four years on my bed. I couldn’t stand up straight or do stairs. I lived in a room on the second floor of a rental house, and I couldn’t do the stairs. I would crawl up or down those stairs with the help of someone, but never alone. I was terrified of falling, and I would have too. I spend a decade of weighing only 98 lbs of skin and bones. I kept waking up and that was as much a surprise as it was a disappointment to me. I would rather have stopped the pain and suffering I did endure. I couldn’t believe that my time was not at an end. Somehow I kept waking up and doing something. One thing after another was what kept me busy. There wasn’t much I could do, only that it was enough to keep me busy. It was enough to keep me going. Well, I am still going and it seems that there is less time for each day. Is that even possible when time shortens gradually without notice? I never thought that getting older was even a remote possibility. I was at the edge of doing things that were impossible. I was so healthy and strong that it would have scared you to just see me. I stayed hidden somehow and in some way for most of my life. It wasn’t easy for me to develop my conditioning and senses, but it was a necessity of survival. I was so fearful of something that I would freak at the motion of a shadow or a sudden, unexpected noise. I don’t know what it was, only that I was so afraid. I remember crying for most of my childhood for one reason or another. It was a fact that I was a sickly child, with rheumatic fever, chicken pops, mumps, colds, and allergies up the ying yang. It’s funny, but everything went by so fast. I would get so sick that I couldn’t believe I could live, but I did. I would seem to blink and I was on into something else. There was always something else. As an adult, I was always short of time that seemed to be getting shorter by minutes every day. I could never squeeze what I wanted out of time for a day’s worth of efforts. I keep repeating that Life is a balance, that what comes around is what goes around. It amazes me that the parable seems true, or is it? Does it really balance out in the end? Will I get some sort of reward for my efforts? I might not be so noble, but at least I do try to be as straight up and honest as I can manage under the circumstances. I do remember a lot of things that almost don’t make sense or even seem possible for anyone to do. There were times when I was on the spot, doing what had to be done. Someone had to do something and there was no one else around to do it for me. I had to do it right up until I got so sick that I couldn’t stand up straight. Now my bones are rotting away from the inside and I am turning into a blob of fat and muscle. That is something else that I didn’t know was possible, but only to me. If I had an hour to tell about me and what I would leave behind, what would I say? Who knows when they will suddenly take leave of this world? I never know when I will come to an end, even when I have fallen from heights, or had some sort of accident. A rope would break, a cable would snap, or something would happen to make it all come to a stop. But not for me. I would wake up and shake off the waves of hurt. Then one day it happened that there was something I couldn’t shake off. I got sick. Who would believe that I would be able to sit and think about my memories like a full time occupation of watching movies. my movies of my experiences. There are so many things to think about that I never get bored. I might get so tired that I have fallen asleep while doing things, walking, swimming, working, or anything repetitious. I do look for patterns in things when I bother to look. There are always patterns in everything that humanity does. We have learned that patterns are a part of our lives just as the very genetics that force us to grow in the ways that we do. There are patterns in everything that has genetics. It is a fact that genetics are patterns that evolve for one reason or another and we are set to live out our lives by the patterns we have had evolve for us. Right. There are patterns and there are pattern breakers. There are builders and destroyers. There are people who live peacefully and those who do not. I happen to be a mix of both that has come about to live out as I have done. I couldn’t have done any differently because that is the way it is. And, patterns don’t change until they are replaced with other patterns that do have changes in them already formed for size, weight, and all other relevant characteristics. Patterns again. I know I live according to patterns. I also know when to jump to avoid certain conditions or patterns from happening. You don’t walk on thin ice or sit in a bonfire. There are so many things you can do that it seems hardly worth the effort to think about what you can’t do. It is no wonder humanity would be considered a real nasty parasite to be eliminated. We are insatiable and so resilient in most conditions. We seem to survive almost anything once we use our brains to figure out what we do need. We use tools and our brains. But, that is where I can say that I am only a button pusher. I don’t have the technologies I once had and I can’t do what I used to do by myself. I need those technologies or I am no different than anyone else, except for the fact that I do know what to do at the right time. It’s funny to be able to say that when I can make some of the most hilarious mistakes just at the wrong time. It might not be anything to do with buttons or paradoxes, but it is still a serious thing to make mistakes in the first place. You might think that I would be smart enough to know when to cross the street. But, there have been times when I was totally unprepared for decision making or choices when those mistakes have happened to me. I can sit still and laugh at those circumstances in hindsight with much laughter. But, there have been times when I sweated blood to exert enough energy to do what had to be done. I was bruised all over for a long time afterwards. But, I did do what had to be done and that is what assures me that I did so do the right things and I am still alive for it. Survival is in our blood just as our genetics have made us to be. We can only follow the patterns that were made for us. I seem to think that at one point, I did make a few alterations to something that determined just how my own patterns would turn out to be. Maybe that is my reward for my own fate. Maybe that is just what was done at some point in time to ensure not only my own survival, but the continued survival of others as well. That’s something else to think about. I was never alone. I always had a team or a group to work with during my memories. I was never alone then and I still can’t bear being alone now. There is always someone within shouting range around me. Rarely is there ever a need to have someone come to my rescue, but they are always there and waiting to be needed, watching for a danger to be neutralized. I suppose that is only a part of a pattern, to be useful or used, as the case may be. We are always a part of something, a group or a team. We have to be pretty exceptional to get away from society in general. People are so insidious that they are always there, always playing out a part in something that eventually matters to something else. We pick up and repair patterns as we see fit to keep the balances that we live by. We do make our own world come about as we want it to be.

20110727

27 July 2011

The trouble with measurements comes along with degrees of interpretation depending upon whether the measures are in Imperial, Colonial, Standard, or Metric values. The difference of translating from one measure value to another measure value always means that there will be a discrepancy of some sort.

I was born and raised to learn the Imperial value of measures. Then, there was the conversion from Imperial standards to Metric standards of measure. I have had a hard time to judge weights and measures in my old fashioned way before converting it all to Metric standards.

Decades have passed with the country using Metric standards while I fumbled along using my judgement in Imperial measures before converting my guesses into Metric standard values. Not easy, not accurate, and certainly not reliable in any way for me to make such ill formed guessed judgements .

The preceeding information helps to understand the troubles I have with making measurements. When I measured the length of the graphlite rod that I would need to connect the elevator servo to the elevator control horn, I made a mistake. I measured the center of the servo travel length to the center of the elevator control horn. I failed to include the extra length of wire that would be needed to prevent mousing on the graphlite rod from dragging on the unmeasured half of the servo travel length. Oops!

I had been in the process of installing the completed graphlite and wire control rod to hook the servo to the elevator control horn. The simple fact is that I will have to shorten the length of the graphlite rod and increase the length of wire by the same amount. I will have to cut the graphlite rod on both ends, drill two holes and mouse wire onto both ends of the graphlite rod. I suppose it is a good thing to discover my mistake when I did. So, sit back and wait for the popcorn to be nuked while I play catchup to where I should be with the graphlite carbon rods and moused wire ends. Right.

It has taken the better part of the evening to break, hack, and wiggle the newly made graphlite control rod with moused wire ends into place within the balsa wood fuselage of the Fokker DVII sesquiplane. I can’t believe how hard it was to get that little task done! The fact that I was actually able to get the graphlite control rod into the fuselage was more by someone else’s design and not my own efforts. It is obvious that the glider aspect of the sesquiplane was so well designed by an experienced builder. I am grateful for that little extra allowance here and there throughout the fuselage design to make little changes needed to convert the glider into a reasonable remote control park flyer.

There are troubles that can be solved and other troubles that are just there and must be surmounted. The wire must be bent to right angles while sitting in a tiny hole on a nylon plastic tab of the servo for the elevator. The trouble is that there is so much stress exerted against the sides of the hole while the wire is bent. I have been lucky to avoid damages to the nylon plastic tab. Were that little nylon plastic tab to become damaged, the whole circuitboard worth about $80.00 would have to be replaced. Sometimes there are little things that have great importance, eh?

It is a ticklish business to fit the graphlite carbon rod and wire ends into position within the fuselage. The bending of the wire ends is made even more difficult with the possibility of breaking off the nylon plastic tabs on the servos. I would do my best to bend the wire carefully and hope that the little nylon plastic tabs would hold up under the stress. So far I have not broken any of the little white nylon plastic tabs.

I admit that I am worried about what I do while positioning the graphlite carbon rods with the wire ends. I have had to cut out some of the fuselage struts to fit the long rods into place. I have had to replace the wire ends because of their being too short, and of their breaking off under metal fatigue. Now I have the practice of drilling holes and bending wire pieces to be moused. The important thing is that I can do the work efficiently and quickly to the exact lengths that are needed.

I spent three days at the task of fitting in the first two graphlite carbon rods. One mistake after another caused me to repeat the work until I got it right. Each time I did the work, I learned more about how and why the graphlite carbon rods with wire ends were chosen for the type of control rods. There is a composite of maximum strength with a minimum of flexing during the push or pulling actions carried out by the control rods. Finally I became so fatigued and stressed out by my mistakes that I had to rest for a day.

Taking a rest when you are tired is a good thing. It relieves stress and freshens up the body when nutrients are low. A steady habit of resting can go a long way to preventing burnout. When I did go back to working on the balsa wood project, I immediately saw a few mistakes that I hadn’t noticed before. The left elevator had two breaks in the balsa wood frame. The fuselage had breaks in several side struts. And, there were poorly done bends in the wire ends of the control rods.

It is usually easy to correct most mistakes. Unfortunately, I had either the wrong type of tools or I was going about the repairs in the wrong way. I couldn’t make right angle bends in the wire ends of the control rods. I do think that either I need new tools to work with or I need to ask someone for help with the bending of the wire. It isn't up to me to be able to do all of the work that a factory can do, but it is up to me to do my best in making a balsa wood scale model Fokker DVII sesquiplane that is capable of remote control flying. Right.

There is a certain art to bending wire. It takes a bit of practice to get it just right. I fought with half a dozen wire ends of the control rods before I felt a certain feeling when bending the wire to the exact length I needed to connect the servo tabs with the control horns. It was a literal test of my hand strength for every wire ending of the graphlite control rods. And I knew my hands had been tested by their aching fatigue. I kept with the task at hand, and by hand, I was able to accomplish the sort of neat and tidy work I would be proud of afterwards.

It was the last control rod that I had to make for the remote controls of the balsa wood sesquiplane. I aced the work of mousing the wire pieces I pushed through the tiny holes I drilled in the third graphlite rod. I felt exhilarated at the job I did of bending the one wire end just so it would fit easily into the servo tab. I happily fit the wire end into the hole of the nylon plastic tab of the servo. I followed the length of the graphlite control rod back to the elevator control horn. To my shock, the wire ended at exactly the point where it should bend into the hold of the control horn.

I have cut wire moused and glued onto the graphlite control rods before. It means that I will have one more length of wire to cut and replace a bent wire already moused and glued onto a graphlite control rod. I know I am too familiar with going over work I have already done to correct a thoughtless or misguided mistake. One more such mistake is not outside of my realm of experience.

The second attempt at mousing a wire end onto a graphlite carbon rod went quickly enough. I was happy with the work, especially when the wire bent as I wanted it to do. I still have to cut through the fuselage side to allow for the passage of the graphlite carbon control rod. I will have to strengthen the fuselage sides and make proper guide holes for the control rods to go through.

The tedious part of crafting the graphlite carbon control rods and setting them up is done. I have a minor task of putting in some new struts into the sides of the fuselage. One elevator is still in dire need of repair and the other has a bit of overhanging hinge. I can trim off a bit of the base for the control horn that sticks out too far.

It is surprising how much time can pass by without notice while tinkering away at little odds and ends. I have spent over six hours at finishing the graphlite carbon control rods and hooking them up correctly. It actually doesn’t take much to put the length of the control rods out enough to affect the angles of the elevators and rudder. The actual test will be when the electronics are adjusted to move the servos. Hm.

Wire can conduct electricity, join, or tie things together, and have many other uses, However malleable wire might be, it is a metal that can be bent only so many times before it breaks. Each bend in a wire causes stresses and crystallization that leads to failure of the metallic strength. My inexperience with wire caused me to bend the wire ends of the graphlite carbon control rods repeatedly until breakage occurred. So far, I have had to replace three wire ends of the graphlite carbon control rods.

It is easier than I first thought to cut off and replace wire ends of the graphlite carbon control rods. I had to conquer my ominous feeling of dread before I could begin the actual work of replacing each wire end. Once I actually started, it didn’t prove to be as difficult as I had imagined. I was able to get the practice I needed to work with the wire ends. It does make a lot of difference when you know what you are doing and have the practice you need to work successfully through a particularly difficult task.

It can easily become frustrating when something doesn’t go quite right. When such situations arise, it is wise to take a break or examine the tools and the task for the cause of the difficulty. There are many ways to do the same task and the one way that gets done is not always the best way. Check and recheck the work to see that nothing is left out or that might be straying out of alignment. Work habits are evolved with continuous practice of conscientious awareness and sure movements in a safe and serious manner.

20110725

25 July 2011

Today is the day after I successfully completed the making of a control rod for the rudder. 0f the three control rods to be made, it is the shortest and the first after which all the rest will follow. I am pleased with the method I used to create the control rod that took a total of three days to complete. And, I had to purchase more tools and supplies to complete the job.

The first purchase I had to make was of a .040 gauge wire. Luckily for me the wire came in single three foot lengths and cost only sixty eight cents. I took the newly purchased wire home to begin work on the first control rod. The first thing I did was to file a flat spot on the graphlite rod I had measured and cut to length. Then I had a flat spot to center the drill and begin to drill the hole through the graphlite rod. A two inch piece of wire was cut and bent with the first of four bends. The wire fit neatly into the hole in the graphlite rod and the second of the four bends was made. Mousing with glue completed the affixing of the bent wire to the graphlite rod.

It was only after completing the fashioning of the control rod that I found the wire was twice the diameter of the holes available on the servo. I had to cut off the affixed wire on the graphlite rod. A bit of cleaning up was needed to prepare the graphlite rod for the second hole to be drilled for the first piece of smaller wire. The way was prepared for some shopping to be done.

The trip to the hobby store was business like and brief. I knew where the selections of supplies were and went directly to the section with wire and material supplies. I selected a piece of .020 gauge wire for sixty eight cents. A loonie produced some extra change for me to feed into my purse. My purse is usually heavy enough for me to pronounce that it carries two extra bricks instead of the regular one brick.

A second stop was made at Lee Valley. Not one but two jeweler’s vices were purchased. Now I have a total of three jeweler’s vices I had found that my hand drill did not handle the wire sizes of drills. However, the jeweler’s vice could fit the wire sized drills quite nicely. And, the jeweler’s vice was also able to handle the gauge of the graphlite rod and so give support for filing and drilling that needed to be done.

A third stop at another store was to purchase a tiny four inch desk vice that could easily clamp temporarily onto my desktop. A tiny vice would make bending of any material or just holding it into place to be worked on in a quick and easy manner. I have often thought of acquiring a desktop vice, but had put it off until now. I hate to think of my growing list of tiny tools intended just for my delightful hobby of scale modelling.

The acquisition of a desktop vice was more than I had expected. The four inch vice is actually an all-purpose piece of equipment that does clamp onto any desktop quite easily. The vice also has a small oval shaped flat surface anvil for working and finishing materials. It is a well designed and sturdy vice for most purposes I might have in mind. The desktop vice came along with the purchase of a small flat file. It was a bit of a splurge on my part, but I thought it was a good opportunity to make the best of the visit to that speciality store.

The trouble with measurements comes along with degrees of interpretation depending upon whether the measures are in Imperial, Colonial, Standard, or Metric values. The difference of translating from one measure value to another measure value always means that there will be a discrepancy of some sort.

I was born and raised to learn the Imperial value of measures. Then, there was the conversion from Imperial standards to Metric standards of measure. I have had a hard time to judge weights and measures in my old fashioned way before converting it all to Metric standards.

Decades have passed with the country using Metric standards while I fumbled along using my judgement in Imperial measures before converting my guesses into Metric standard values. Not easy, not accurate, and certainly not reliable in any way for me to make such ill formed guessed judgements .

The preceeding information helps to understand the troubles I have with making measurements. When I measured the length of the graphlite rod that I would need to connect the elevator servo to the elevator control horn, I made a mistake. I measured the center of the servo travel length to the center of the elevator control horn. I failed to include the extra length of wire that would be needed to prevent mousing on the graphlite rod from dragging on the unmeasured half of the servo travel length. Oops!

I had been in the process of installing the completed graphlite and wire control rod to hook the servo to the elevator control horn. The simple fact is that I will have to shorten the length of the graphlite rod and increase the length of wire by the same amount. I will have to cut the graphlite rod on both ends, drill two holes and mouse wire onto both ends of the graphlite rod. I suppose it is a good thing to discover my mistake when I did. So, sit back and wait for the popcorn to be nuked while I play catchup to where I should be with the graphlite carbon rods and moused wire ends. Right.

It has taken the better part of the evening to break, hack, and wiggle the newly made graphlite control rod with moused wire ends into place within the balsa wood fuselage of the Fokker DVII sesquiplane. I can’t believe how hard it was to get that little task done! The fact that I was actually able to get the graphlite control rod into the fuselage was more by someone else’s design and not my own efforts. It is obvious that the glider aspect of the sesquiplane was so well designed by an experienced builder. I am grateful for that little extra allowance here and there throughout the fuselage design to make little changes needed to convert the glider into a reasonable remote control park flyer.

There are troubles that can be solved and other troubles that are just there and must be surmounted. The wire must be bent to right angles while sitting in a tiny hole on a nylon plastic tab of the servo for the elevator. The trouble is that there is so much stress exerted against the sides of the hole while the wire is bent. I have been lucky to avoid damages to the nylon plastic tab. Were that little nylon plastic tab to become damaged, the whole circuitboard worth about $80.00 would have to be replaced. Sometimes there are little things that have great importance, eh?

It is a ticklish business to fit the graphlite carbon rod and wire ends into position within the fuselage. The bending of the wire ends is made even more difficult with the possibility of breaking off the nylon plastic tabs on the servos. I would do my best to bend the wire carefully and hope that the little nylon plastic tabs would hold up under the stress. So far I have not broken any of the little white nylon plastic tabs.

I admit that I am worried about what I do while positioning the graphlite carbon rods with the wire ends. I have had to cut out some of the fuselage struts to fit the long rods into place. I have had to replace the wire ends because of their being too short, and of their breaking off under metal fatigue. Now I have the practice of drilling holes and bending wire pieces to be moused. The important thing is that I can do the work efficiently and quickly to the exact lengths that are needed.

I spent three days at the task of fitting in the first two graphlite carbon rods. One mistake after another caused me to repeat the work until I got it right. Each time I did the work, I learned more about how and why the graphlite carbon rods with wire ends were chosen for the type of control rods. There is a composite of maximum strength with a minimum of flexing during the push or pulling actions carried out by the control rods. Finally I became so fatigued and stressed out by my mistakes that I had to rest for a day.

Taking a rest when you are tired is a good thing. It relieves stress and freshens up the body when nutrients are low. A steady habit of resting can go a long way to preventing burnout. When I did go back to working on the balsa wood project, I immediately saw a few mistakes that I hadn’t noticed before. The left elevator had two breaks in the balsa wood frame. The fuselage had breaks in several side struts. And, there were poorly done bends in the wire ends of the control rods.

It is usually easy to correct most mistakes. Unfortunately, I had either the wrong type of tools or I was going about the repairs in the wrong way. I couldn’t make right angle bends in the wire ends of the control rods. I do think that either I need new tools to work with or I need to ask someone for help with the bending of the wire. It isn't up to me to be able to do all of the work that a factory can do, but it is up to me to do my best in making a balsa wood scale model Fokker DVII sesquiplane that is capable of remote control flying. Right.

There is a certain art to bending wire. It takes a bit of practice to get it just right. I fought with half a dozen wire ends of the control rods before I felt a certain feeling when bending the wire to the exact length I needed to connect the servo tabs with the control horns. It was a literal test of my hand strength for every wire ending of the graphlite control rods. And I knew my hands had been tested by their aching fatigue. I kept with the task at hand, and by hand, I was able to accomplish the sort of neat and tidy work I would be proud of afterwards.

It was the last control rod that I had to make for the remote controls of the balsa wood sesquiplane. I aced the work of mousing the wire pieces I pushed through the tiny holes I drilled in the third graphlite rod. I felt exhilarated at the job I did of bending the one wire end just so it would fit easily into the servo tab. I happily fit the wire end into the hole of the nylon plastic tab of the servo. I followed the length of the graphlite control rod back to the elevator control horn. To my shock, the wire ended at exactly the point where it should bend into the hold of the control horn.

I have cut wire moused and glued onto the graphlite control rods before. It means that I will have one more length of wire to cut and replace a bent wire already moused and glued onto a graphlite control rod. I know I am too familiar with going over work I have already done to correct a thoughtless or misguided mistake. One more such mistake is not outside of my realm of experience.

The second attempt at mousing a wire end onto a graphlite carbon rod went quickly enough. I was happy with the work, especially when the wire bent as I wanted it to do. I still have to cut through the fuselage side to allow for the passage of the graphlite carbon control rod. I will have to strengthen the fuselage sides and make proper guide holes for the control rods to go through.

The tedious part of crafting the graphlite carbon control rods and setting them up is done. I have a minor task of putting in some new struts into the sides of the fuselage. One elevator is still in dire need of repair and the other has a bit of overhanging hinge. I can trim off a bit of the base for the control horn that sticks out too far.

It is surprising how much time can pass by without notice while tinkering away at little odds and ends. I have spent over six hours at finishing the graphlite carbon control rods and hooking them up correctly. It actually doesn’t take much to put the length of the control rods out enough to affect the angles of the elevators and rudder. The actual test will be when the electronics are adjusted to move the servos. Hm.

CJ; vb

20110718

17 July 2011b

The trouble with measurements comes along with degrees of interpretation depending upon whether the measures are in Imperial, Colonial, Standard, or Metric values. The difference of translating from one measure value to another measure value always means that there will be a discrepancy of some sort.

I was born and raised to learn the Imperial value of measures. Then, there was the conversion from Imperial standards to Metric standards of measure. I have had a hard time to judge weights and measures in my old fashioned way before converting it all to Metric standards.

Decades have passed with the country using Metric standards while I fumbled along using my judgement in Imperial measures before converting my guesses into Metric standard values. Not easy, not accurate, and certainly not reliable in any way for me to make such ill formed guessed judgements .

The preceeding information helps to understand the troubles I have with making measurements. When I measured the length of the graphlite rod that I would need to connect the elevator servo to the elevator control horn, I made a mistake. I measured the center of the servo travel length to the center of the elevator control horn. I failed to include the extra length of wire that would be needed to prevent mousing on the graphlite rod from dragging on the unmeasured half of the servo travel length. Oops!

I had been in the process of installing the completed graphlite and wire control rod to hook the servo to the elevator control horn. The simple fact is that I will have to shorten the length of the graphlite rod and increase the length of wire by the same amount. I will have to cut the graphlite rod on both ends, drill two holes and mouse wire onto both ends of the graphlite rod. I suppose it is a good thing to discover my mistake when I did. So, sit back and wait for the popcorn to be nuked while I play catchup to where I should be with the graphlite carbon rods and moused wire ends. Right.

It has taken the better part of the evening to break, hack, and wiggle the newly made graphlite control rod with moused wire ends into place within the balsa wood fuselage of the Fokker DVII sesquiplane. I can’t believe how hard it was to get that little task done! The fact that I was actually able to get the graphlite control rod into the fuselage was more by someone else’s design and not my own efforts. It is obvious that the glider aspect of the sesquiplane was so well designed by an experienced builder. I am grateful for that little extra allowance here and there throughout the fuselage design to make little changes needed to convert the glider into a reasonable remote control park flyer.

20110717

17 July 2011

Today is the day after I successfully completed the making of a control rod for the rudder. 0f the three control rods to be made, it is the shortest and the first after which all the rest will follow. I am pleased with the method I used to create the control rod that took a total of three days to complete. And, I had to purchase more tools and supplies to complete the job.

The first purchase I had to make was of a .040 gauge wire. Luckily for me the wire came in single three foot lengths and cost only sixty eight cents. I took the newly purchased wire home to begin work on the first control rod. The first thing I did was to file a flat spot on the graphlite rod I had measured and cut to length. Then I had a flat spot to center the drill and begin to drill the hole through the graphlite rod. A two inch piece of wire was cut and bent with the first of four bends. The wire fit neatly into the hole in the graphlite rod and the second of the four bends was made. Mousing with glue completed the affixing of the bent wire to the graphlite rod.

It was only after completing the fashioning of the control rod that I found the wire was twice the diameter of the holes available on the servo. I had to cut off the affixed wire on the graphlite rod. A bit of cleaning up was needed to prepare the graphlite rod for the second hole to be drilled for the first piece of smaller wire. The way was prepared for some shopping to be done.

The trip to the hobby store was business like and brief. I knew where the selections of supplies were and went directly to the section with wire and material supplies. I selected a piece of .020 gauge wire for sixty eight cents. A loonie produced some extra change for me to feed into my purse. My purse is usually heavy enough for me to pronounce that it carries two extra bricks instead of the regular one brick.

A second stop was made at Lee Valley. Not one but two jeweler’s vices were purchased. Now I have a total of three jeweler’s vices I had found that my hand drill did not handle the wire sizes of drills. However, the jeweler’s vice could fit the wire sized drills quite nicely. And, the jeweler’s vice was also able to handle the gauge of the graphlite rod and so give support for filing and drilling that needed to be done.

A third stop at another store was to purchase a tiny four inch desk vice that could easily clamp temporarily onto my desktop. A tiny vice would make bending of any material or just holding it into place to be worked on in a quick and easy manner. I have often thought of acquiring a desktop vice, but had put it off until now. I hate to think of my growing list of tiny tools intended just for my delightful hobby of scale modelling.

The acquisition of a desktop vice was more than I had expected. The four inch vice is actually an all-purpose piece of equipment that does clamp onto any desktop quite easily. The vice also has a small oval shaped flat surface anvil for working and finishing materials. It is a well designed and sturdy vice for most purposes I might have in mind. The desktop vice came along with the purchase of a small flat file. It was a bit of a splurge on my part, but I thought it was a good opportunity to make the best of the visit to that speciality store.

20110704

4 July 2011

Happy 4th to America! Canadians have their own thing to worry about and celebrate theirs on the first day of July. How about that!

We took three days to go on a visit to our daughter in Toronto. She is having another bout of hypochondriac paranoia that only parents can resolve. We are trying to fix things in our own way. It isn't entirely professional to use home cures, but sometimes it just works anyways. Our trip was an overall success and we enjoyed ourselves at everything. Our van ran well as did my electric wheelchair. There were no complaints including the overnight thunderstorm that went through the Toronto area to freshen and wash the landscape as well as it did.

All of this travelling around only means that I have direly neglected to work on the bare frame of balsa wood that now has an outrunner motor and an activator servo installed. The frame does need some foreward balancing to level out the static balance of the sesquiplane. I will try to install the circuitboard and electric battery as far foreward as possible to make up what is needed for the static balance of the airframe. I am happy about how things are proceeding, although it is tediously slow and full of many little sudden inspirations. It certainly isn't the factory way of doing things. Oh well, as it proceeds, eh?

20110620

19 June 2011

Today was when we went to some friend’s place to rescue by way of a visit. We belong to a social club that boasts thirty or forty members. We are active volunteers for various events and we enjoy what we do. Our participation is because we know what we can do to help the group without spreading our own resources too thin. Afterall, we aren’t rich by any stretch of the imagination. A procrastinator send out a message of distress concerning the general state of their home. A whole lot of stuff was piled up in every corner of every available space in what amounted to be a two bedroom apartment. Two grown adults and a five year old boy lived in the constantly growing confusion and mess. Thankfully there was no garbage in the hoarding that was going on because it was all good stuff, just ever so inappropriately stored. I can understand what was happening to very bright and sensitive people that were trapped within a bubble of procrastination. Popping the bubble was not going to be easy for fear of hurting the feelings of our dear well intentioned procrastinating friends. At the same time it was necessary to set an example of how things should be instead of how things were in that closed in apartment. I spent the afternoon in the actively interactive building of a Spiderman set by Lego. The dear little five year old was quick to catch on reading the picture detailed instructions. Putting the puzzle of Lego pieces together was made more interesting by the playing with action figures according to the active imagination of the five year old who had not seen the movies about Spiderman. It was a lesson about the inventiveness of the five year old’s mind to fill in the space of ignorance that concerned the actions of the action figures in the Spiderman set. Keeping a hyperactive child occupied while the adults made a dent in the storage hoard was my contribution to the afternoon’s accomplishments. I had no idea of how or what was the work involved, only that it was done. Several large garbage bags of clothes were piled up to be donated to charity. About half of an apartment bedroom was cleared by the four adults as a result of the afternoon’s work. In retrospect, I can understand how the situation came to be as badly depressing as it was to the inhabitants. We are complex individuals that carry around a whole lot of baggage with us where we go. We don’t often reference what that baggage is but we do blindly hoard the treasures of the past as if they were more precious than gold. We don’t need useless boxes of clothes, Tupperware, and treasures of so long ago. Those reminders of the phantom past are as binding and valuable as they ever were while occupying space and time that would be better served in the present. Procrastination is a big word that doesn’t mean being lazy. Instead, it is a mere hanging on of the past over the more appropriate reality of the present. It takes a special care by concerned friends to solve the dilemmas represented by each item of the piled up hoard. We were the lucky ones to be able to help in the reordering of the storage pile that filled that bedroom at the end of the apartment’s main hall. You can believe I was tired and hungry by the time we were able to get back home. We dropped off the bags of clothes at the local charity and did a small shopping trip. I was able to get some toast and a cup of hot coffee for myself at home. It was refreshing to be home with the two big cats prowling around for attention.